Life is a Pop-up ad.
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The thing that woke me up from my slumbor was when the client asked, "So, how to I get the messege abuot my product out to as many people as I can?" and the G.M. of Cyberblob said, "Waal, the way WE do that around the office is by e-mail.
"Harrumph!," he contineud, "I say you let us send the whole world an e-mail with your product on it!"
He went on to say abbout how we shoud use this ammazing new marketing tool: E-MAIL.
This is 1998 for Godsake. I coud not bellive there are people arround who donot know that spam is wrong. It sounds like I am makin this up, but it is so dumb, and so bad, that there can be NO WAY I am makin it up.
And so the next 40 minuttes consisted of the G.M. (and my yappy little boss who kept agreeing with him) blathoring out to the client, (who, between the three of them know NOTHIN about computers, or the web), some stupid plan whereby they woud pay us to spam half the world on their behalf, while the arogent V.P. of Pickin His Nose (who DOES know that spamming is a bad idea), tried gently to persuede them NOT to spam no one while still diplomaticolly maintainning the full ensconced contact of his lips with associatted expert suction and pressure to all the apropriate asses in the room.
"The Medium is the Messege," the G.M. mumbled half out loud in a throaghty harrumph at the end of the meeting to no one in particuluor. This is the guy (I swear) that the Dilbert cartoon is based on (at least it probly is) where the suport staff gave thier managor an Etch-A-Sketch instedd of a laptop becuase they knew he was so danm dumb hed never tell the diference.
Also did I mention that the stupid iddiot, (the G.M., not Junior), never washes his hands aftor he craps (and besides that on Fridays, he really needs to flush the danm toilat a second time at the minnimum after his afterlunch constitutional or atleast show a little shame for the sake of the danm swirlies he leavs in the bowl. Because I think this is the one day ofthe week where he probly has allot of gin to drink, eithor that or an awfull lot of cheese doodles. OK, I am sorry, once agian this mindless bitching of mine has nothin to do with the story).
Junior told me that my brother had called him from on the escape route: AND THE CALLWAS A WARNING
While Granfather coud clearly be heard agonizingley screamming like a friggin animol in the bacgkround, my brothor said he called to say to Junior that him and Uncle Zeke were firmly and officialy warning him NOT to help me and my Dad in our pursiut of them to rescue the old basterd. They threatened to have Junoir deported to Alaska, (he is frightened of snow) if he dared help us: And that specifficoly meant driving us to the airport, or somthin like that.
I asked Junoir what Granfather was howling in agoney about. Between sobs he told me he was hollerin varrious and sundry Granfatherisms at the TV, (common, routine Granfatherisms), which for the old basterd was purely normol and to be expectad.
"WHUT THE HELL'S SAM DONOLDSON'S PROBLEM?"
...and also, (while watchin the Guiness Book of Records show on Fox, his new favorrite show):
"WHOA, THET EVEL KNEIVAL'S SON SURE DO LOOK LIKE JOHN TESH."
"THET DRY-LIPPED, CRINKLY FACED OUTDOORSY-LOOKIN FELLER IN THE ALEVE(TM) COMMERCIAL SURE SKEEVES ME OUT, WHUT WITH HIS PINKY STICKIN OUT ALL PRISSY LIKE AS HE HOLDS THE PILL BOTTLE."
...and also at the top of his lungs with a ciggorete clenched tight in his teeth,
"DADBURNIT!! I DON'T WANT OPRAH TO CHANGE MY LIFE!"
At least all this gave me a clue to the fact that if aneyone was suffering from this kidnaping, it sure wasnt Granfather.
I told Junior to relax becuase no one was gointo deport him to a place he was never at. I also told him to punch a speceil code as to see where his last phonecall came from and then to call me back. If they were close to a TV, then they were in a hotel. The reason why my wily brothor called Junior and not me or Dad is becuase he knows that Junoir woud never think to find out the last numbor called. Aftor I got the number from Junoir I called dad's phonemail and left a messege for him with that numbor on it.
Aftor this, I had just one more thing to do:Try to log in MY DANM HOURS ON THE DANM HOURLEY SYSTEM
Well ive been on the new stupid online system for ovor two months now and I HAVE NOT BEEN PAID.
But even still, every time I log in my hours, it crashes on me. Plus, the danm system is set to accept entries from employyees who log in ONLY between 4:30 and 5 PM on Fridays, on alternate weeks, so it can "auto-generate" a pay stub and check for me.
If you happan to be out on Fridays, or the danm system is down, you must wait TWO WEEKS for all the planets to line up on the next alternate Friday aftornoon to try again.
Then, if you are stuppid enuogh to re-enter your hours, and it sees a doubol entry, why then it will knock out all your prior hours becuase the Cyberblop online lan based time clock dumb ass login systam is set up so no one rips them off. But the onley one gettin ripped is me.
Oh, PUH-leeze, "it all comes out in the wash." Try usin THAT line on peoplle you got to pay bills to, like the danm phone company.